Chaos Theory
by Sorrow Reminisce
Summary: An ensemble of nonlinear Loki-centric one shots. Set between scenes, between movies, or an expansion/rewrite of an existing scene, etc. Pairing is currently non/gen, unless the muse prompts me to write otherwise. Part 1 summary: On the dead plains of Svartalfheim, Thor grieves.


**A/N:** To those who may be following _The Hand That Feeds_ and _Enemy of My Enemy_, rest assured I'm still continuing them! I just felt the urge to develop a wee compilation of one-shots for those times when I'm compelled to write, but need to take time out from the kind of lip-chewing, hand-wringing effort that goes into a multi-chapter. (Sometimes it's nice to just to rattle off a 500 word ficlet without worrying that one line of dialogue from this chapter will completely screw my story in the next...)

This first one shot is an expansion of a 146 word piece I wrote to accompany a Tumblr gifset (link in profile).

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**Chaos Theory  
**1 - The Dead Plains

by Sorrow

Thor held tight his grief when his mother lay dead in his father's arms. Though his chest wrenched with pain, he stood back and watched his father press his lips to her hair and farewell her fading soul. Silently he raged, as her life force drained away into a pool of red upon the marble floor. But he shuttered his thoughts. He buried the ache of her loss deep within himself. He channeled his sorrow into revenge.

When it came his brother's turn to fall, there was no leash upon his heartbreak. No decorum to restrain his wretchedness. He gathered Loki into his arms and began to plead. _No no no… Stay with me, stay with me!_

There was no light without darkness! No sun without the moon! He could not conceive of a world where one could exist without the other. But it was to no avail. Even the might of Thor could not hold his brother back from death when the taint of the Kursed crawled beneath his skin, and his heart-blood pumped hot and thick onto the sand.

And so Loki slipped away.

There, on the dead plains of Svartalfheim, Thor's anguish ripped from his lungs. His sorrow stretched up to the clouds and cracked like thunder across the sky. His world, once so whole and full of life, felt now as dead and barren as the black sands that swirled around him. His mother, gone. His father driven mad with grief. His very home brought to its crumbling knees. And now his brother…

Shoulders sagging, Thor gathered Loki tighter in his arms; a silent keen now replacing violent roar as hot tears escaped shuttered lids and tracked across his brother's lifeless lips. His clever little brother who had doted on him as a child, resented him as an adult, but followed him regardless of it all. His troubled brother, a stranger who claimed allegiance to no one, but who sacrificed himself for the very family he had fought against. Gone. _Not you Loki. Not like this_. He murmured against his brow. The words almost intangible as grief squeezed his throat.

Soft hands lit across his back and took gentle hold of his shoulders. _Thor, Thor, I'm so sorry Thor… We have to go. _ The voice urged. He shook his head. If he just held his brother… If he just pressed against this wound a little longer… If he could just stop this blood and lend him his warmth…

_Thor please. A storm is coming. And Malekith… Remember? We have to get out of here. _

Both voice and hands were insistent now. Tugging him upwards, drawing him away . He had no choice but to comply, knowing there was reason in the words.

Shifting his brother's head from his lap, Thor laid him gently on the ground and staggered to his feet. Then, a last glance over his shoulder as he turned away. A final horror-struck realisation that he who died with honour and redemption now lay alone and abandoned upon this barren landscape. No final journey across the sea of space. No flaming arrow to light him on his way...

_Please Thor. The Convergence… We're running out of time!_

He nodded grimly, knowing these words were the truth. The fate of the nine realms weighed upon him. A heavier burden to bear than that of his brother's corpse. Loki would say so himself, were he able.

And although he had no choice but to once more set aside his despair and carry on, let no one say Thor did not grieve the loss of those he loved the most.

Let no one say, Thor did not love his brother.

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**End Note: **I do prefer the shorter version of this tale, but felt the need to flesh it out a bit in order to make it worth posting and to just kind of coax out some more of Thor's feels. Course, I probably wrecked it by adding in lots of unnecessary waffle when the original almost-a-drabble was kind of powerful on it's own. And, by the way, by half-way through this I had developed the type of migraine that made my vision blurry. Should I have come back to proof-read/post it later? You'd think that would be logical, right? Meh well. :P

I'm not sure what random story will come next, but if you enjoyed - or didn't enjoy - this one, please drop a review and let me know what you think! :)


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